


stranded in a spooky town

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, gore but not graphic, i also saw this prompt on pinterest, making out with your rival to distract them, nerf battles are sick, no beta we die like men, so is kissing leon draisaitl, then doing it again as an apology for distracting them, then never bringing it up after that, this idea came to me while i was playing a haunted csgo map
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28023870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: What’s a nerf battle without kissing the enemy as a distraction? Ask Leon Draisaitl, he’ll know.
Relationships: Leon Draisaitl/Matthew Tkachuk
Comments: 10
Kudos: 82
Collections: anonymous





	stranded in a spooky town

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from “closer” by kings of leon because i liked the line and the band has leon in its name lol.
> 
> the movies and/or scenes referenced in this work of fiction are: friday the 13th, the thing, the nun, child’s play, nightmare on elm street, the shining, and psycho.
> 
> this was supposed to be cute and chill but. yeah.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?”

“There are cameras everywhere. No one is going to get jumped.”

Matthew scoffs. Like Kassian would be brave enough to go after him off the ice- the dude was all talk in front of the media and behind mics, constantly feeding into the rivalry that only existed below padding and feet crammed into skates one size too small. The only one Matthew really had to watch for was Draisaitl, who was glaring daggers into him from his own group, taking handfuls of bullets and loading them into his gun.

“I’m not afraid of getting beat up,” he insists, filling up his own nerf gun, goggles perched on top of his curls. “I just don’t see why this is necessary; The Oilers are sore fucking losers anyway, kick their ass in nerf and we’ll be hearing about it for the rest of the season.”

Johnny isn’t buying it. He just gives Matthew that look and adjusts his own goggles, gun locked and loaded at his hip. “Draisaitl’s already got a problem with you and you haven’t done anything yet. That why you’re nervous?”

“Fuck’s sake, I’m not nervous. I already told you that.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Johnny replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. “You’ve got an advantage; shooting that cute little commercial with your brother. Surely you have some tricks up your sleeve, eh?”

Matthew glares at him through the corner of his eye, strapping on his holster; mandatory, he could care less for protection, and extra padding on the vest to hold more ammunition. 

It was just around Halloween, so the map would be haunted. From what Matthew could tell on the website, there would be horror movie themed decor and jump scares. Matthew couldn’t imagine what would lie behind the double doors, as the lobby already freaked him out enough with the knobs covered in fake cobwebs. Because of the jump scares, they wouldn’t only be battling monsters or whatever, they’d also be shooting at the Oilers at the same time.

But Matthew will be fine. All he has to do is avoid getting snuck up on and walking into shit, hitting as many people as possible, and not running into Kassian in the dark.

A deep voice comes over the loudspeaker and Gio chuckles at it. It explains the rules, which should be easy enough to remember. The employees hidden around the map can’t touch you and you can’t touch them either. They’re around merely as distractions and to scare the crap out of you. Last man standing wins it for the entire team. Two rounds; Oilers go in first and get one minute to hide, same for the Flames second round.

Draisaitl is still giving him a dirty look, slipping more bullets into a pouch and smoothing down his hair from where the goggles messed it up, which was probably the most disturbing thing about all of this.

“Goggles on,” the voice says. “The Oilers may enter the map now.”

Matthew watches as Draisaitl’s eyes finally stray away from him and turn towards the doors, which have many “Keep Out” signs messily nailed on. It’s Kassian who opens them after McDavid repeatedly refuses to, despite being coaxed on by his teammates because he’s the Captain or whatever.

But he’s nowhere near as freaked out at Johnny, who’s already reconsidering his idea to go in before a minute is up.

“You talked all that shit and now you won’t even play?”

“I’m still thinking about it, asshole,” Johnny snaps back, which gets a reaction out of Hanifin, who’s looking extremely determined but also startled by how firm Johnny’s voice got when he was annoyed- the dude could be scary for how fucking short he was. 

Matthew’s not waiting around for Johnny to ponder this. So he takes him by the sleeve and ignores his pleas to let go, and shoves him in before the door slams shut behind them, rattling on its hinges. The place falls into total silence, despite the hushed whispers amongst Matthew’s teammates.

It’s almost entirely pitch black, as the only light comes from a few swinging bulbs illuminating the first long hallway that only brighten about a two foot radius. 

Gio leads the pack, bearing his weapon. Everyone does the same, except for Johnny, who’s currently clinging onto Matthew’s bicep with a death grip and seems content on staying that way for the remainder of the games. Matthew will have to lose him around a corner or something.

There’s a lot of banging coming from behind the ways of the dark corridor, but Matthew can’t see any shapes indicating that they’re real people.

It opens up to a large area, the space split into many houses, some of them multiple floors. One of them’s got a bloody shower curtain visible through a window, minus the glass, and that’s what Matthew heads for first. He scopes out the area while repeatedly shushing Johnny and finds that this spot is deserted. The only jumpscare is an animatronic dude behind the curtain holding a fake knife, which is the exact opposite of the movie scene but whatever, Johnny shrieks like he’s just been stabbed and Matthew books it, desperate to get away so Johnny doesn’t yell in his ear again. While running, he manages to get Larsson with a quick pull of the trigger, who’d shot at him already and thankfully missed, the bullet going between Matthew’s legs and hitting the concrete floor instead of its intended target.

He’s definitely not regretting that choice of abandoning Johnny when he’s up alone in a watchtower, keeping an eye on the entrance staircase with his hand poised over the trigger while he peaks out the window. The only two people he can see in the dim light are who appear to be Darnell Nurse and Oscar Klefbolm, deep in discussion with their gun barrels up towards the ceiling.

Matthew’s never used this kind of nerf gun, so he wasn’t sure how far it would shoot. He had to take his chances with the angle of the ammo as well, as the more attentive nerf players could figure out who was at higher ground from how the ammo stuck to their velcro. There are many windows cascading down alongside the staircase, so Matthew squats halfway down them for a quiet escape route if he gets caught in action.

It’s way too dark for the security cams to help Matthew pick up on any movement. He uses the eyehole to perfect his aim, and hits Klefbolm dead on, who curses, throws some sort of apologetic look at Darnell- who’s now on high alert for whoever just shot his teammate- and heads for the door. Matthew has tucked himself away in a corner, so Darnell’s eyes just sweep right over him before he also starts walking to find a hiding spot.

There’s a piercing scream that sounds a lot like McDavid, and Matthew nearly has to cover his ears. Then the ginger man comes from around the corner, stalking back to the double doors, also unaware Matthew’s watching him for a brief moment. Matthew, just because he wants to be a total asshole, shoots McDavid in the leg for good measure, who must have eagle eyes or fucking night vision because his gaze sets on Matthew immediately.

“Of course it was you.”

He doesn’t say anything else; because it’s against the rules to help your teammates, whether intentionally or not, when you’re out. Pulling the bullet off the velcro, McDavid chucks it back at Matthew before continuing out.

Every time someone gets out, it’s announced over the loudspeaker. Matthew’s thankful he hasn’t heard Kassian’s name yet, because he wants to be the one to get that bald asshole out. The names he did hear though, were Klefbolm, who was his kill, Larsson, also his kill, and two others who Matthew didn’t bother tuning it on. Meaning that there were two thirds of them left remaining in the game. Draisaitl and Kassian were among those ten.

Matthew can’t stay here forever, because it’s inevitable someone else will try and use the watchtower, so he pushes himself to his feet and stretches his legs before heading further into the map.

The next house Matthew heads into also has a shower curtain, but it’s not bloody. Matthew’s watched his fair share of horror movies and knows that there’s nothing pleasant behind that shower curtain, not feeling safe with turning his back to it in fear of getting ambushed by a naked grandma and quickly exiting, doesn’t even notice the “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” written on the walls in fake blood.

He runs into Sam Bennett in a fake infirmary, who’s crouched down and collecting ammo. Matthew didn’t see anyone pass him, so it’s a mystery who he’d gotten out.

“Hey, Chucky,” the man says quietly, once he’s done. “Just got Neal. He was hanging out with your buddies Draisaitl and Kassian.”

Matthew’s blatantly ignoring the fake corpse with its stomach carved out and insides exposed laid out on the infirmary cot in the middle of the room. There’s bloody defibrillators on the floor, which he recognizes as what he nearly tripped over while walking in. Green slime covers the wooden walls. Matthew’s slightly embarrassed now; knowing that he was more scared of a fucking shower curtain than this display from hell.

“Are they around here?”

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “No, but the doctor is.”

“What the fuck?” Matthew splutters. “The doctor?”

“You’ve seen this movie, right?” Sam asks, tucking his gun back into the holster around his waist. When Matthew shakes his head, the man speaks up again. “They’re out in, like, Antartica or something. There’s something called the Thing, that you catch like a cold. You can’t, like, see it or anything, and it’s hard to tell who has it before that person goes insane and possibly passes it on to you. Long story short the doctor tries to help this guy and the defibrillators go right through his stomach-”

“That’s enough,” Matthew interrupts, and they share a quiet laugh. “I got it. So I’ve got to look out for a doctor?”

“I forgot I wasn’t supposed to shoot ’em.”

Idiot. Matthew rolls his eyes. “Well, thanks for that, Sam,” he says. “Did you see where Kassian and Draisaitl went? I’m looking to get my third and fourth kill.”

“Around the corner, to that house with the canoe outside.”

Oh, Matthew knows that movie. Alice is in a canoe and Jason comes up out of the water and drowns her. A bit of an easier process than with the blond one, who dumped gasoline in the water and nearly drowned himself. He didn’t find it particularly entertaining, but the original movie was more than a couple decades old by now and special effects in horror movies have made great improvements since then so maybe he shouldn’t be so tough a critic.

Matthew hides around a corner until Kassian’s big head emerges from the doorway, followed by Draisaitl. They’re both looking smug as fuck, probably having bagged the majority of kills among their team. Draisaitl isn’t easy to hit while in motion, but Kassian’s the exact opposite. Matthew hits him right at the collar of his vest, near his neck. The man lets out a loud curse but doesn’t come close to seeing Matthew, who’s pulling his knees closer to his chest to avoid having his feet stick out into the light. But when Kassian’s out of ear shot, still muttering expletives to himself in a way that makes Matthew want to giggle, Draisaitl definitely notices him.

Matthew’s finger slinks around the trigger, barrel tipped slightly up just in case he needs to shoot. But Draisaitl doesn’t make a single move to shoot, doesn’t even reach for the gun in his holster. Instead, his lips curl into a smirk and he turns to walk away. Matthew’s dumbfounded, probably exactly what Draisaitl wanted out of him, and stares at his ass instead of shooting. He gets his head back in the game, but finds his mind returning back to Draisaitl and how he was so fucking cocky. Matthew will show him.

Once Matthew can no longer see the enemy, he ducks into the room and gets a better look at the room. Jason’s cracked mask lays in the middle of the floor, which Matthew carefully steps over. He’s seen gameplays of the video games, and the room looks identical. A thin blanket strewn on the floor, irregular wooden shelves, and a small boarded up passageway in the back that’s clearly been used before. One thing that looks out of place is the charred remains of a fire in the middle. Matthew didn’t recall a scene like this.

When Matthew gets too close, it goes up in flames. Like actual fucking flames. Nearly crying out in surprise, Matthew’s hand braces his fall back against the wall. He finds that the wood is slippery, and in fact fireproof, so the place won’t catch on fire, thank fucking god.

There’s a noise, and then Jason fucking Vorhees busts through the wood entrance and Matthew’s scream gets caught in his throat when he flails with the gun in his pocket. The man stumbles forward, unable to catch his footing before falling face first into the fire. Matthew breathes a sigh of relief but then remembers Jason is, like, fucking immune to fire. But also that this dude is a real person.It’s got to be a prop somehow, but Matthew doesn’t wait to get the hell out of there before he gets chased away by a dude on fire holding a fucking axe to split his head in two.

He’s only able to catch his breath once he’s back outside the shack, having heard two more names from each side getting called. There’s still half the players left and Matthew’s already nearly pissed himself. Back against the wall, Matthew treks back to the infirmary, seeing no sign of the doctor Sam was telling him about while he slinks around in the darkness, nailing someone who runs by.

“Scary, eh?” 

Matthew nearly jumps out of his own skin. “Oh, whatever,” he says once he realizes it’s Sam, grinning like a madman at him, caterpillar mustache turned up and all. “It’s not real though, is it?”

“No, of course not. They were holograms.”

Maybe those weren’t actually security cameras.

No time to dwell on it, Matthew’s still got to track down and shoot Draisaitl. Wherever that smug fucker may be.

Him and Sam part ways. Matthew keeps his gun out of the holster for the near future and hopes his hold on it won’t fail him now. There’s not a lot of light for the next two minutes Matthew spends wandering the place, keeping one hand in front to feel for anything he could walk into by accident and cause a racket. There’s finally a source of light, towards the back of the open space, appearing to brighten the entrance to yet another room. Matthew’s not sure he wants to go in, slowly approaching until he finds there to only be a bed.

It’s a nice bedroom, not Matthew’s style, but nice nonetheless. He’s more careful this time with what he touches, and makes himself aware of the closet to his right. Light blue sheets that hang off the side, short wood headboard. There are a couple framed photos on the wall; three rectangles, one circle. It’s got to be a horror movie scene but Matthew hasn’t got a clue. Something odd that he notices is that this bed doesn’t have some sort of nightstand. 

The thin teal blankets show the outline of a slightly protruding figure underneath, and the pillows are ruffled, case wrinkled like it had been slept on. Matthew knows better than to reach for the corner of the blanket and tug it away to see what’s there but lets his hand extend out anyway.

Just before he can take the fabric between his hands, there’s a bullet in his back.

“Fuck,” he says, turning around. Surprisingly enough, it’s not Draisaitl, but Tyson Barrie, gun still pointed at Matthew’s chest. He lets it fall to his side when Matthew opens his mouth to speak. “Hey dude.”

Tyson smiles at him, but it’s dampened by the terror in his eyes. “Hey, uh, what’s under there?”

“I’d look, but there’s a nerf bullet stuck to my vest,” Matthew sasses, taking it out and returning it to a pouch. “It’s something from a movie.”

“Nightmare on Elm Street.”

Matthew blinks, because he’s never even heard of that movie before. “What?”

“That’s where this bedroom is from.” Tyson’s totally chill while gesturing to the space around him, at the mass underneath the duvet. “Nancy’s mom’s death took place in it. I just didn’t know what would be there. Under the blankets, I mean.”

“You’re free to check,” Matthew reminds him, turning on his heel and walking out.

He passes Draisaitl, who manages to shoot a bullet at Matthew’s head and get it tangled in his curls, barking out a laugh. Matthew doesn’t find it funny, and it’s definitely against the rules to shoot at an unprotected area of someone’s body, but he could care less than Draisaitl is trying to get a rise out of him. He just takes the bullet out of his hair and pockets it instead of throwing back. If Draisaitl makes any noise of protest or retaliation, Matthew isn’t listening. 

Everyone’s back in the lobby, laying around and eating. Johnny and McDavid are currently fiddling with the vending machines, so Matthew joins them, pulling some coins out of his pocket while stripping himself of his gear. They’d be served pizza, and then go out for their second round where the Flames would get to go in first, Matthew planning on using that time to take note of some hiding places. Johnny greets him with a string of curses expressing his resentment for Matthew abandoning him, which McDavid chuckles at while punching in the four number code for a bottle of water.

Matthew, while taking a few long sips of gatorade, looks over at the Oilers’ side of the lobby. All but two were there; Draisaitl and Nuge. For the Flames, they only had Sean left to count on to take out both of those assholes. Which wasn’t the worst, the guy had good aim from all the fucking video games he played. 

The knob tweeks, and everyone looks up from what they’re doing to see who pushes through the doors.

The Oilers break out in cheers, hoots and hollers, greeting Draisaitl and Nuge with open arms when they walk out after Sean, who just shrugs his shoulders when accepting a fist bump from Nuge. McDavid throws them both an apologetically neutral look before heading over to celebrate a little as well.

During the pizza break, Matthew can still feel Draisaitl’s eyes shooting daggers into his back. He attempts to stomach the feeling by cramming pizza into his mouth and making small talk with his teammates, and also has to drown on the hiccups with Gatorade from eating too fast. But no matter what he does, the feeling is still there, because Draisaitl is yet to look away. Either Matthew is hallucinating, because his teammates don’t seem to pick up on it, or they just genuinely don’t realize from stuffing their faces with pizza. Johnny has burped at least five times from chugging two Cokes, and Matthew’s surprised he’s still got an appetite after hearing that.

Eventually, the Flames are let into the arena, and everyone runs off in separate directions to find a place to settle. Matthew does the same, not even letting Johnny stand by his side before the door opens in front of them, so that there’s no chance he’ll be able to follow Matthew and nearly sabotage his plan again.

He doesn’t think he’s been in this section before, because headlights flash right in his eyes, temporarily blinding him. At that exact moment, there’s a loud beep that makes Matthew jump at least two feet in the air before diving for cover. There’s an abundance of bullets flying through the air and the sound of wheels skidding. It’s all fake, there’s no truck trying to crush him. Matthew fires a couple bullets himself, one of them colliding with the velcro on Yamo’s back thigh, who’s taken it upon himself to climb into the bed of the truck.

McDavid’s head pokes up after that, scowling at his teammate who’s just been shot, shoving his shoulder a little. Matthew had wasted no time reloading his cartridge and when McDavid fully exposed himself while still pushing around his younger teammate, Matthew got him as well.

He pumps his fist up triumphantly, and winks at McDavid when he steps into the headlights to go hunt down someone else to shoot. 

The next jump scare Matthew encounters is when he’s alone in a small room, with Chucky the doll tied to a chair guarding a small box. It begins to spasm when Matthew comes too close, eyes violently flashing red. Matthew, out of instinct, empties his gun and knocks the fucking chair right over, doll and all. The noise definitely gave him away so Matthew’s quick to pick up the box and retreat, keeping his eyes peeled for the enemy.

He’d always been compared to the doll by his teammates and not just because they both had the same nickname, which, fuck them, Matthew’s a lot hotter than it. Messy ginger hair, face stitched together, wearing overalls for God’s sake. At least Matthew makes his hair look somewhat presentable every day.

Matthew hears Kassian’s name over the loudspeaker, and so what, he’d been the one to take that fucker down in the first round and clinch some bragging rights. But the names just keep on coming after that. 

Before Matthew knows it, he’s the last one left for his team.

He plays it safe for a bit, not going out of his way to get kills. One and done, he reminds himself while firing random bullets just to taunt the shit out of the Oilers, mostly Draisaitl because he seems to be their best player. Knows how to use his hands, that’s for sure.

The only climatic thing that happens for the next ten minutes is Matthew getting stalked by a fucking Nun. He hadn’t seen the movie for a reason, okay?

Most of the walls are covered in foam, which Matthew’s thankful for when he gets shoved forward and barely has time for retaliation when he’s pinned up against the foam and there’s a wet heat gliding over his lips- wait, what? Matthew’s mind isn’t doing him any favors, and his body is clearly saying yes as well because his hands move up to feel what’s pressing against him and only end up pulling it closer. It’s firm and warm, and there are hands cradling his face. Whoever it is, they taste like pizza and malty beer. A combination that Matthew’s had in his own mouth before without the help of someone else. The second a tongue finds its way between his lips is when Matthew comes to his senses and pushes the mysterious mass away. All he has to see is the dark beard that was scraping his chin raw and a tuft of brunette hair to know it’s Draisaitl.

“Hey,” Draisaitl says nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just kissed his rival on the mouth.

Matthew can see the glint of joy in his deep brown eyes.

Then, the moment ends when there’s a bullet over his chest.

“Sorry, babe.” Leon says in German, a language that sounds very threatening when you don’t know what the words mean in your native language. Matthew backs away, flinching when he hits the foam again. Instead of trying to speak, he takes out his pocket flask for a sip of water. Luckily, Leon does the talking, in English this time. “I’ll make it up to you.”

He’s not lying, because when they’re alone again, outside after everyone’s already left, Leon walks across the empty parking lot to an impatient Matthew and corners him. Pulls Matthew closer by the hips and lets the man arch into him while he guides their lips together for another kiss. There’s hands in his hair, hands grasping at fabric and the skin below it.

They don’t speak of this moment again.

**Author's Note:**

> i will probably end up deleting this in the morning. sleep tight bitches


End file.
